


Jack

by elmocult



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Jack the Ripper - Freeform, This wasn't supposed to be assassin's creed but you do you, how do tags work, this was a creative writing project so i couldn't add much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 13:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17529311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elmocult/pseuds/elmocult
Summary: This wasn't the first time this thought had bubbled up in my mind, but this was the first time I had believed it. It brought an abrupt sense of dread with it. I didn't like the feeling, and shoved my blade back into my pocket to push away a shiver threatening to crawl down my spine. The giddiness that had been present earlier was no more. My job here was done.----------------A creative writing project I really liked oof





	Jack

I'd quickly come to love the quiet that came with night and it's sleeping inhabitants. London was silent for the most part; there was still the murmur of people slinking through the back alleys, the occasional barking cry of a stray. Besides that, there was virtually no sound, something I was appreciative of. My shoes were still loud against the broken cobblestone street, heels clicking with every step I took, and I had to remind myself to take care when I moved.

Silence was essential for tonight.

Even with that thought in mind, there was a spring in my step that did nothing to silence the clicking of my shoes. Mildly irritating, but I could not ignore the faint whisper of giddiness in my gut. It was there, I could feel it; a warmth that slipped through me and settled in my stomach like I'd just had a hot drink, but every time I tried to focus on it the feeling faded away. I decided to pretend it wasn't there for the most part. Instead, I focused on where I was walking to. The place where I had to be was practically engraved in my mind, though finding it was a different story. The address was partially hidden, tucked into a tiny alleyway off to the side of the road. It led to a little area, a block of houses rented out to whoever could pay for them. Well hidden and a decently safe place to hide, if I do say so myself.

I stepped into the little alleyway, wrinkling my nose at the smell, and walked towards one of the houses. It was a simple building, really; plain white brick, two small windows barely a foot apart, with seperate, warped glass panes bordered by wood. It was too dark to see inside from where I was, but that didn't matter to me. When I approached the windows, walking past them with measured speed, I could faintly see someone inside, sitting at a table. A single candle rested on the wood, enough to light the far corner they sat in, though they faced away from me; all I could see was long blonde hair cascading down their back. A woman. She abruptly moved, and I continued to walk. Up the single step, round the corner, and to the front door. This, for whatever reason, was open. The hinges creaked when I swung it open, and I winced. The apartment door was locked. The lock itself wasn't much to look at either, literally and figuratively. I could see a chain lock on the inside - the door didn't fit in the frame, and wasn't properly closed, either - and a rusted link swayed into view.

This was a tad simpler than previously thought. All that I really had to do was reach in and draw the chain back - without getting caught, of course. I slipped a hand into my pocket, drawing out a thin piece of metal that caught what little moonlight there was. The flat of the blade had been scuffed beforehand, enough to dull the reflection of light, but apparently not enough. Taking a second to look at it, I slid the point between the door and frame, aiming for the single chain link in my view. Twice I missed, once having to back away from the door for fear of alerting the person on the other side. After a minute of silence, I stepped back up to the door, re-adjusting my grip on my blade before resuming the tedious job at hand. I inhaled, a deep breath to steady the hand, and moved the blade forwards again. The link caught on its edge, and I nearly sighed with relief. There was no more candlelight to brighten what I was doing, however, and I had to painstakingly pull the lock open with nothing but my sense of touch to guide me. The clink of the lock dropping made my breath catch in my throat and my already stiff body still, yet there was still no sign of of my intrusion having been noticed. Asleep, I noted as I gently pushed open the door to be greeted by a pitch black room. And not likely to wake again. The door was only opened enough to let me pass through, and pushed close once more.

The room smelled musty, clean but stale. There was dust in the air, and I had to pause and hold my breath as it tickled my nose. I heard faint breathing, slow and gentle while caught in the lull of sleep. Turning towards the sound, I took care in making my steps absolutely silent. The knife remained tightly within my grasp. I reached out, placed my hand on the wall, trailed my fingers forward and down until they bumped against a bedpost. Here I kneeled, face to face with the sleeping woman. In this pitch black, I could just barely see the outline of her sleeping form under the sheets, wisps of hair spilling over her pillow, but that was all I needed. My armed hand moved, knife slowly coming to rest on the bit of neck not covered by the blanket. The metal pressed into her skin. An eye snapped wide open, the sclera shockingly bright in the dark. I smiled as it focused on me.

"Good night."

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was as I was wiping my blade down with a rag that I realized there was no money here. I had went through the room twice, yet there was little to nothing in way of possessions here, save for clothing. I had been sent to collect a debt and tie off loose ends. And yet... Nothing. There was nothing to take back. I had blood in my hands, but not a single penny. I wasn't sure how to feel about this discovery, and I certainly wasn't sure what to do now. So I circled the room instead, letting my eyes wander over everything; the two wood tables, placed across from each other, the hearth, full of dead coals, and the bed, with its now red spattered sheets. I didn't look past the edge of the footrest. My eyes eventually came to rest on the knife I still had in a tight grasp, blade now clean and shiny. As I traced the edges with my sight, my hand tightened around the handle, gloved fist shaking slightly.

So they were sending me on killing sprees for no reason.

This wasn't the first time this thought had bubbled up in my mind, but this was the first time I had believed it. It brought an abrupt sense of dread with it. I didn't like the feeling, and shoved my blade back into my pocket to push away a shiver threatening to crawl down my spine. The giddiness that had been present earlier was no more. My job here was done.

I could head back and forget this.

Deep down, I knew I never could.

I was torn from my thoughts at the sound of movement next door, the neighbour shifting while they slept. I had to leave. The sound had brought an abrupt rush of adrenaline, feuling my want to run away even more. My hands shook ever so slightly as I turned to face the door. Even so, I didn't rush, walking slowly out of the room. Not bothering with the lock, I nudged the apartment door closed before opening the one that led outside the complex. Only then did I pause, standing on the outer step in the cold night. An icy wind had risen, bringing with it dust and the smell of coal. The wind didn't bother me nearly as much as the sudden numbness in my heart and blood, but I pulled my coat tighter around me, tucking my chin into its collar to ward off the chill. I silently prayed it would ward off the cold in me, too. Without a backwards glance, I stepped away from 13 Miller's Court, heading off into the dark streets of Whitechapel.


End file.
